prince caleb and his princess non-mc reader
you were promised to caleb xia long before either of you learned what love meant.
the court calls it a reasonable arrangement. two kingdoms tearing down their borders, a bright future forged in marriage. you call him your husband in public, prince in private, and something distant in your heart.
still, he tries.
on quiet mornings, he walks beside you through the palace gardens, close enough that your shoulders touch. once, you briefly whispered your dislike of the early cold, and he draped his cloak over your frame against your protests.
“let your husband look after you,” he tells you gently. you wonder why he feels the need to keep up the facade when it’s only the two of you.
during councils, he asks for your opinions, patiently awaiting your answer. when advisers speak over you, he corrects them firmly. “my wife was speaking,” caleb states, leaving no room for argument.
it makes something delicate stir in your chest. a dangerous hope that something more was beginning to bloom between you both.
caleb is kind to you in the way men are when they know they owe you something they can’t give. because mc already has it.
she’s his knight, his childhood history he treasures deeply. while you were taught diplomacy, she was taught survival. where your hands learned to hold goblets, hers learned to hold blades. she’s always stood by his side proudly, protective and dependable even back then when you were still little. you remember watching them playfight with swords from inside the palace as you struggled to balance plates atop your head. the envy curling in your chest wasn’t just because you knew that caleb would undoubtedly choose her over you if he had a say, but because of how free she seemed. out there, moving with purpose, while your value was found in the art of staying as still as you could, both in speech and form.
you tell yourself this is enough. that being chosen by law is still being chosen. love is not the same as stability, and stability is what keeps kingdoms alive. that matters, right?
the ball is meant to celebrate unity. chandeliers blaze, music sways, and you move through the crowd as you’ve rehearsed countless times. caleb dances with you first, as is expected of him. his hand on your waist is warm and steady, unlike his eyes. always drifting away to check the room, always searching for her, you reckon.
unbeknownst to you, caleb curses in his mind at his embarrassing attempt to keep his composure. you look unbearably gorgeous, and he has no idea how to stand in front of you without betraying how nervous you make him.
“it must be difficult, no? to be the other woman in your own marriage,” comes the whispers from behind lace gloves as you pass by the other guests. you scoff inwardly at the audacity of their feigned delicacy.
the lady beside her snickers, “if that female knight weren’t from a lowly family, i am certain prince caleb would have asked for her hand instead.”
it stings, even though you’ve long known that yourself. hearing it spoken outside of your own mind only solidifies the doubts you try so hard to bury.
the palace garden offers a brief reprieve from the stuffy space. flora decorated the bushes, their colors muted in the moonlight.
“princess,” caleb approaches carefully, a slight crease in his brow, “are you all right?”
you exhale through your nose, his presence only putting you more on edge. “i needed some fresh air. you should go back inside, i will follow shortly.”
the prince doesn’t know why your curt dismissal seemed to pierce through his chest, but he knows he won’t be going back without you. he followed you here the instant mc reported that you had left the ballroom. caleb had asked her to watch over you tonight, as he knew his eyes alone wouldn’t be enough with aristocrats demanding his attention. attention he’d much rather devote to you.
“very well,” he says decidedly, “then let us leave altogether. i can see you’re spent.” his hand reaches for you, hovering in the air as he waits to envelop yours.
you blink, “caleb, we cannot simply leave. we have responsibilities to-”
“you are my responsibility,” he cuts in, eyes narrowing a bit.
“i am more than capable of taking care of myself,” you interject, heat rushing to your cheeks, “i know you think i’m useless past the influence and wealth that my name provides, but i try. i merely follow orders because it is my duty. not because i don’t know any better.” the words are bitter, misdirected. you wince when caleb doesn’t seem to mind, no offense or judgment in his gaze.
his fingers gently close around your wrist, thumb caressing your pulse. “that is not what i meant, forgive me. and you are nowhere near being useless,” his hold on you softens, “i admire you for enduring the court’s expectations, since i know what it’s like to be bound by obligation as well,” he pauses, his voice deepening, “but above all else, ensuring your happiness is my top priority.”
“titles, duty, everyone else… they can wait,” caleb murmurs sincerely, “you, cannot.”
the music from the ballroom fades as he leads you down the garden path. away from the court and safe in his presence, you don’t have to pretend or be anything at all, except his princess.












